“Now, don’t worry, McBirney,” answered Bab gruffly. “I just fixed your friend so he wouldn’t be inconvenienced by what I’m about to do. He’s just taking a little nap to order. He’ll be all right in a minute or two, and by that time I’ll have his arm set as tight as a trap. You didn’t want to hear his hollering and crying, did you?” “No—o,” said Jim doubtfully. He drew nearer to his friend and stood there ready to give any help that Bab should need. In ten minutes it was all over. The arm was in place and held there safely with bandages and splints. Hi’s wet clothes had been dragged from him and he had been wrapped in a warm blanket. His eyes began to flutter and a sick look to come into his white face. “Lie still,” growled Bab to him, “and think of nothing. And you, McBirney, I suppose you come up here to look after the stock. Well, get out that lantern and find the milk pails, and I’ll help you. After we’ve fixed up the animals, we’ll get some supper.” “Well,” thought Jim to himself, as he obeyed the man, “who would believe it? I know pa wouldn’t, and I don’t believe ma would, though she always says there’s some good in everybody. Buck Bab a moonshiner, and not denying it! And yet here he is, helping me out! It seems like a night with a lot of queer dreams in it. Oh, my! Poor Zalie! Oh, Zalie, where can you be!” CHAPTER IX HAYSTACK THOMPSON Haystack Thompson lay in bed making uncomplimentary remarks about the rain. “It’s just took away the last chanct we had of following up that poor little mountain lass,” said he to his old clock. “If it hadn’t been for this tarnation storm I’d ’a’ tramped back to that there dell where I come on them two lasses making eyes at that rattler, and it would have been mighty funny if I couldn’t have found out something about what happened there.” He reached out for his bag of tobacco, and filling his pipe and lighting it, tried to bring some cheer into his damp cabin by smoking very hard. “I’d have gone over the whole ground,” he mused. “I’d ’a’ pretended I was walking on with that nice little Miss Carin, talking and smiling; I’d thought out how the other lass hung behind, looking at the trees and flowers, and I’d never have give up till I made out why she didn’t reach that church. But here we are, everything swept smooth as sandpaper with the storm!” He fell to wishing that for once in his life there was some one to build the fire for him and get the breakfast.